


what are those

by local_enginerd



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, a certified shitpost, and mercy is the underpaid saltmine, he's not a monkey he's a scientist, moira is a raccoon of a human being
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 20:40:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14340486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/local_enginerd/pseuds/local_enginerd
Summary: A shitpost in which Moira is absolute garbage with no regard for lab safety.





	what are those

“They let something like  _ you _ in the lab as something other than an experiment?” Moira sneered.

Winston peered at her over the stacks of empty peanut butter containers on his desk. The hair on his neck bristled but the scientist remained largely silent. The gorilla adjusted his glasses, adding more solution to an Erlenmeyer flask cupped gently in one of his gloved feet.

“Absolutely disgusting.” Moira fixed her gaze on his four gloves (one for each hand and one for each foot, see Appendix A) and scowled. She also noted that Winson was sitting in the ring of a large tire such that his limbs were free to carry out experiments. “Your results are most certainly ninety percent covered in hair.”

“I assure you, Doctor O’Deorain, I am following all proper safety procedures,” Winston huffed. He didn’t turn to face her. “There’s no monkeying around in this lab.”

* * *

 

_ Flopflopflopflopflop. _

Winston swiveled around in his seat as the noise echoed through the Watchpoint. Its origin soon became apparent as Moira stepped through the lab’s airlock.

“Doctor O’Deorain, what are those?” Winston all but dropped his banana in shock. Moira was wearing a pair of lab gloves on her feet...and flip flops over those (see Appendix B).  It was as terrifying as Jack’s “socks and sandals” combo for BBQ night. As atrocious as Tracer’s crocs. 

“Yes.” The woman in question straightened her tie before replying. “Do you have an issue with that?”

“I do. And I’m speaking as medical director.” Angela Ziegler’s voice echoed from the other end of the lab. “Doctor Deodorant, that is certainly not proper lab wear.”

“Well, the monkey does it and-,” Moira stood at the entrance of the lab, mouth agape. “W-what did you call me?”

“Winston’s feet are prehensile,” Angela replied, raising an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting you’re also a gorilla?”

“No, of course not.” Moira scowled so hard that she’d get wrinkles even remembering this one day randomly when falling asleep. “Hmmph. You win this time, Ziegler.”

She then proceeded to back out of the lab and into the trash can in the hall, where she belonged. They listened to her flop into the distance.

* * *

 

**Appendix A**

****

Artist's rendition of Winston's labwear.

**Appendix B**

A spicy "meme" depicting a similar circumstance.


End file.
